


summoner

by karnsteins



Series: spooktober 2020: tulsa edition [1]
Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: (gone wrong), Gen, M/M, Possession, Rituals, literally the last paragraph, the ship is in the background but you know. tagging!, this is why you don't try to summon things to make life easier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26649910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karnsteins/pseuds/karnsteins
Summary: this frat always produced wealthy, good looking guys. they always ended up in good jobs, they always held sway, and james wanted to be one of them. he'd thought that the hard work he'd be in for, when he joined, was going to be lots of studying, lots of kissing ass, and lots of dedication.as he dumps the curtis kid onto the pentagram already carved into the bottom of the basement floor, he thinks that getting a guy drunk to sacrifice to a hungry entity was a lot easier than having to do all of that.or: a fraternity thinks that ponyboy curtis will be an easy mark to kill for a demonic sacrifice. things do not go as planned. (a possible future for my series, the descent involving ponyboy being possessed by dallas)
Relationships: Ponyboy Curtis/Dallas Winston
Series: spooktober 2020: tulsa edition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937839
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	summoner

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't read any of _the descent_ series, this might have you a little out of the loop but could be read as standalone future to that series.

"you sure that curtis kid will be worth this?" james grunts as he hauls the skinny kid further down the basement of the fraternity house. the kid isn't really heavy; he's an art major who wears glasses and rarely talks much in their classes. it had been a little difficult to get him out of his shell to get this arranged, but james supposes they could have picked a bigger guy. 

then again, for a guy this small, it took a lot to get him drunk enough to not tell he was being drugged. 

his fraternity brother rolls his eyes as he jogs forward, "you read the paper. he fits the qualifications, james. he was involved in a murder before his sixteenth birthday, he's a local, and he's the third son. he's exactly who's needed for this." 

james wants to snipe back, hauling ponyboy further down the steps as they finally reach the bottom of the basement where the rest of the frat were. the smell of beer, dangy basement and the other hocus pocus shit they'd gathered permeated the air. if james hadn't seen it work himself, he would have left a lot sooner, but he _had_ seen it and he'd be damned if he didn't get in on it. 

this frat always produced wealthy, good looking guys. they always ended up in good jobs, they always held sway, and james wanted to be one of them. he'd thought that the hard work he'd be in for, when he joined, was going to be lots of studying, lots of kissing ass, and lots of dedication. 

as he dumps the curtis kid onto the pentagram already carved into the bottom of the basement floor, he thinks that getting a guy drunk to sacrifice to a hungry entity was a lot easier than having to do all of that. 

and he was done with being poor, with having to work for everything else. this was a shortcut, no matter how dirty his hands got. 

he ignores curtis moaning on the pentagram as he high fived his frat brothers, already clamoring for more alcohol. it's not quite the right time to stick the knife into the kid, and he deserves to drink for all the trouble it had taken to worm his way into his life, to make sure that he fulfill the requirements, and that he could properly get him down here. 

he can already feel the acceptance among them change. the alcohol tastes good, and despite some attempts to psyche him out, he feels prepared to do this, to finally get what belonged to him. 

the night wears on. he refrains from drinking more, eyes occasionally straying to ponyboy's prone form on the pentagram. a few people have kicked him here and there, more new guys, but mostly he's been left splayed, auburn hair glinting beneath the lit candles. the glasses he has are barely still on his nose, and the skull ring on his finger seems to spark. 

james comes over just once, to tug the ring off of his finger. he slips it on his own, and there's a congratulatory yell when he does it. it fits on his pinky, and he spends the next few minutes glancing at the clock.

finally, ten minutes to midnight, things settle down. that familiar buzzy magic starts to fill the air, and james takes his place. the robes go on some of the frat brothers, while others lean back, simply wanting a show. 

the chant begins, and like the first time he saw it, the candles jump to attention, sparking and flaming high. the very air begins to thicken, and james can feel the hair on his arms stand on end. his body seems to vibrate as the brothers begin to speak. "hear us, gods above and below. we ask for your attention, for your blessings -- in exchange for the blood you seek." 

he wants them to hurry. he _needs_ this, needs what this stupid dead fuck can give him. 

"we call upon the dead, those who dwell beyond the needs of human life," the sober voice of harold rings around them, clear as a bell. "we ask you to listen to our demands, made in blood!"

before this, when they had done this, the ozone had crackled. it got warmer.

instead, to james' surprise, the warmth is suddenly completely pulled out of the room. he shivers, feeling it penetrate him almost instantly, vindictively so. harold falters in his robes as the candles start to twist and flicker, going from an orange color to a brief flash of blue before they start to fizzle out. 

murmurs start. james turns to harold, and harold clears his throat. "we, the living--"

on the ground before him, ponyboy's body jerks up suddenly, back stiff and straight. he's not supposed to move, not supposed to be aware. james looks up in alarm at the rest of them as ponyboy staggers up to his feet in jerky movements, and when he turns his head to look at james, it's as if ice has been slammed in his chest with the glare that ponyboy gives him. his eyes are an icy, furious blue.

"what the fuck," james breathes out in terror, the words barely strangled out of his throat. 

the other guys are frozen as ponyboy's mouth opens and a voice issues out of it that is colder, meaner with a distortion that makes james' insides twist uncomfortably, "you're going to regret ever laying eyes on this kid." 

_this kid?_ james thinks right as the lights flicker on above them, washing the room in electric light. ponyboy's eyes go from a pale blue to a milky silver, and every light begins to pop one after the other. things happen in flashes: he sees a punch thrown, harold's face in shock. glass shards fall and something begins to burn. james is turning on his heel, trying to get out, the knife gone. 

he can hear people yelling, can hear something inhuman screaming behind him as he flees up the steps, panting for air. then he feels something jab his side, and that awful, distorted voice says, "this ring ain't yours." 

he loses a finger -- and then the knife finds its way into his throat. as his mind starts to falter, as the blood ebbs out of him, he thinks that he sees an after image of someone taller, with white blonde hair sticking to ponyboy's figure, moving up the stairs.

then there's nothing but blackness for him. 

ponyboy, meanwhile, makes his way back to his apartment. the fire will make the news, an entire frat wiped out in a freak electrical accident. no one will know he was there, the knife left right beside james' body. he's more concerned with washing the blood off of his hands and putting the ring back on his finger where it belongs. he looks at the mirror in front of him as he does it, one eye still icy blue, and is once again relieved that dallas winston stuck around, for good.

**Author's Note:**

> boo, bitch! happy spooky szn, ficlets come when they come. this is a possible future scenario for _the descent_ but otherwise, don't read into it _too much_. comments, kudos, come yell at me on tumblr, i'm @traumapeaks.


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